


Heart Line

by ThePugAddict



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Light Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Spoilers, daddiolus, daddiolus amicita, oh yeah some smut too, this is probably going to turn out as a dramatic soap opera with lots of angst and tears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9283622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePugAddict/pseuds/ThePugAddict
Summary: “I swear…. Whoever gets you as his doctor will be the luckiest human being alive.”(Contains spoilers.)(More detailed summary coming soon.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone, and welcome. I hope everyone has had a great holiday and a happy new year. Hopefully, no one had trouble getting back into the swing of work and school, either.
> 
> For those of you who wondered why I haven't been updating "Marks" lately, this just about explains it. Blame Square Enix for this horrific madness. Had they ruined my life with that new game earlier in the year as originally promised, I wouldn't have had such tremendous writing urges at such a horrible time.
> 
> Without further ado, here is the first chapter of my new piece. Enjoy.

~ooo~

 

Another person was admitted to the ER this morning.

 

Rose Sentis. 82-year-old female. Had a hip fracture related to Osteoporosis. Her bloodwork also came in a few moments ago. Vitamin D serum levels had read 11ng/mL. Far below average.

 

You were surprised you could even remember the name. You had immediately forgotten what number she was. Oh, how many had it been? Five today? Fifty this week? Five hundred this month? Certainly felt like more than that. There had been so many cases that you lost count, and you honestly didn’t care enough to pick up where you left off. You were already getting the hint from the countless new incidents, plenty of which were vitamin D related—bone fractures, rickets, osteomalacia, depression, etc. And all those wound cases relating to daemon attacks? You didn’t even want to get yourself started.

 

Alas, these cases were not the first, nor would they be the last. For as long as the continuous darkness lasted, the waves of sick and injured would keep on pouring into the emergency room, and with the night sky going on a record of about ten years to date, you had a feeling that the high admission rates weren’t going to drop any time soon.

 

Understandably, this spelled trouble for Lestallum Medical Center—currently the only functioning hospital within the city, and perhaps the only one within _at least_ a hundred miles. If people were in trouble, they were going to wind up here. Sadly, there were more of them on a daily basis than what the facility could contain. For that reason, some of them had come in vain, having traveled long ways only to be turned towards the opposite direction in the end. Even for those lucky enough to be accepted in, calling the treatment “suboptimal” was too generous. Simply put, resources were becoming limited—the floors were understaffed, rooms were getting full, and medical supplies were cut short. To obtain any more of said resources was not only costly but also difficult, especially in grim conditions such as those beyond city borders. Most tormenting of all, however, was the cold, bitter fact that all this chaos was unavoidable. Unless this unbelievable root cause was somehow dealt with, the sick and wounded were doomed to multiply tenfold. And gods help the doctors of Lestallum, whose endless nights of work and ware would all go to waste…

 

No. You weren’t going to let that phase you. You couldn’t; you were too vital of an asset to let a broken spirit impact your work. Lives were on the line, and though you had to admit to yourself that you couldn’t save everyone in the world, you were still going to hell and back to rescue any single beating heart you could get your stethoscope on. Medical skills aside, it was because of this stalwart passion of yours that you were bound for a risky journey to Hammerhead once your last week in the med center was over.

 

First aid services were in critical demand at the deviant outposts stationed outside of Lestallum. “Daemon hunter bases,” they were called—makeshift stations inhabited by those who were brave enough to be proactive about the daemon epidemic. It was no surprise to you that they were also housing plenty of wounded hunters and rescued civilians. Members of the Daemon Hunters Alliance—DHA for short—had come to the city to negotiate with healthcare leaders in order to obtain the much-needed professional support. The superiors wouldn’t have been so reluctant to send their doctors if it wasn’t for the overwhelming demand within Lestallum itself, not to mention their own conflicting feelings about the hunters’ cause. Some had responded to the DHA’s plea by criticizing them for promoting “unnecessary bloodshed,” contributing to the excess numbers of cases that the facilities would ultimately have to deal with. Others, on the other hand, argued that an agreement with the DHA was an investment as the organization’s activity would decrease the rate of wound cases in the long run. After a battle of heated arguments, both amongst themselves and with the daemon hunters, the healthcare board finally agreed to make a pact with the DHA. Their services would be limited, but after all the turmoil to get any help at all, the hunters certainly weren’t going to turn it down.

 

Thus, the contract was set. Days later, brand new positions started to open up. Messages were scattered everywhere in the med center advertising for physicians, nurses and other personnel to take up work at various bases outside the city. To the younger and inexperienced, the new positions appeared thrilling—opportunities of a lifetime to venture out into danger and to aid the rescue of innocent lives. Doctors like you, however, didn’t see any of the glitz and glamour in it. Even if you did, your perspective would’ve changed in the blink of an eye when you heard the job description. Both in the inquiry and at the interview, the details regarding the actual job itself were just barely touched upon. Instead, the most emphasized points of all were the risks. No, your safety was _not_ a guarantee, nor would it be their priority. Yes, they were going to make damn sure that they wouldn’t be held responsible in the event that something happened to you (as told by the pages of waivers you were requested to sign). It was no wonder the majority of applicants quickly turned down the spots in the middle of the interviews.

 

Amazingly, you didn’t. They chose you right on the spot. No questions asked. The recruiters seemed almost bewildered as they watched you sign all the paperwork. When the news came out, everyone thought you were a madwoman. Eyeballs almost popped out of skulls when you told people where you were going. It was the latest topic in nurses’ gossip. Your colleagues flat-out asked you if you had a death wish. Even your father—perhaps your greatest supporter of all—had tried many times to talk you out of it.

 

Today, he called you once again, immediately after you got out of your last evening shift to grab your bags out of the car. You were just moments away from boarding your ride to your placement in Hammerhead Outpost.

 

“Will they even have enough food and beds there for you?” he questioned over the phone.

 

Your hands explored through the contents in your suitcase to ensure that you packed your laptop charger, holding your phone against your ear with your shoulder. “There are only four of us,” you answered. “I’m pretty sure they have enough space for a couple more.”

 

Dad’s voice dipped into a more serious tone. “There are going to be a lot of men around, you know,” he commented. “You sure you won’t run into any shady fellas there? Hope there’s someone there to watch over you ladies. Separate rooms for you, too.”

 

You found your laptop charger at the bottom of your bag. At the same time, you rolled your eyes. If this was another attempt to dissuade you from leaving, then it wasn’t working. “Yes, Dad, the base is monitored,” you answered. “The person housing everyone there is a woman, too.” You grabbed your phone and relaxed your shoulder. You shut your suitcase, then zipped it back up. Though the phone line was suddenly quiet, you knew that he wasn’t going to stop there. You said nothing more. You tugged your suitcase out of your trunk, waiting for more negativity and worry to be vented to you. A weary sigh blew into the line from the other end, but you paid it no attention.

 

Then, after a bit more silence, your attention was drawn back to the phone by the soft sound of your father saying your name. Just on the verge of shutting your trunk, you paused yourself. You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath and biting your lip. Dad was going to waste his breath. Did it even register to him that your departure was a done deal? At this point, there was no way to stop you.

 

Still, you at least had to be considerate. He honestly couldn’t help it. It was his job to worry about you and to steer you out of harm’s way. After all, he was your parent: that you couldn’t ignore. So, whatever he had to say, you were at least going to let him say it—even if you disagreed.

 

“I can tell you’re expecting me to talk you out of this,” said Dad.

 

 _Hit the nail right on the head_. You decided to be candid. “I do,” you replied softly.

 

“Well, that’s not what I’m doing.”

 

You blinked twice, brow twitching a little. This conversation certainly didn’t shift the way you expected. Was this some kind of last-resort tactic he was saving until now? Maybe. Maybe not. Still, you’d listen.

 

“[Y/N],” he said. “I understand you’re dead-set on this trip. Unlike everyone else, it didn’t shock me when you first told me about it… Knowing you, I’m sure you’d even be willing to run through a field of fire just to help someone.”

 

His tone was somehow making you feel defensive. Did he find that to be a weakness? That would be the last thing your father would ever say. Otherwise, he was thinking like a fool. Since when was risking your life for another considered anything but honorable? “I can’t help that,” you explained firmly. “That’s what I’m supposed to do. I _help_ people. It doesn’t matter what the risk is. I can’t just sit around and do nothing when people are getting sick or hurt. Is that such a bad thing?”

 

“ _No_ , no. Not at all, sweetheart,” said Dad. The phone line was probably clear enough for him to hear the flare in your tone. His throat shifted into a gentler, higher pitch this time. He started to sound more assuring as he resumed talking. “If anything, I wish everyone in the world had a doctor like you. Believe me. I’ve seen you. You’ve always had a very big heart. A big brain to go with it, too, thankfully… You’ve got something not a lot of people have these days, especially in troubled times like these… That’s why I’m not going to talk you out of this trip anymore.”

 

Dad wasn’t wrong. The _every-man-for-himself_ doctrine wasn’t so healthy for today’s world, yet most people unfortunately lived by it anyways. Even the people of Lestallum—perhaps some of the friendliest folks in the world—were no longer as brotherly as they were ten years ago when there was still daylight outside. Not only that, but Dad was also pretty spot-on about you, too. What could you say? You just liked caring for others. You did it all your life, whether you were in good shape or crumbling to your core, whether you’d get credit for it or not, and whether you’d even get that same care in return. And all because you just simply… well… _cared_. Though the world’s personality was changing, yours wasn’t—caring was still all you knew. Even if the world spoke to you with coldness, you’d still respond with care.

 

This your father knew. You lowered your guard and grew calm again. Nevertheless, your skepticism didn’t go away. “You’ve changed your mind fast,” you commented. “What made you do that?”

 

Dad sighed again. “To be honest, I _still_ wish you weren’t leaving, but… stopping you would be selfish.”

 

He was telling you the truth, at least. “What do you mean?” you asked him.

 

“You’re being sent out there for a good reason, honey. There are plenty of people out there who could _really_ use that extra help… For some, it could probably mean the difference between life and death… Not to mention, in a serious job like daemon hunting, they might need one more good person at their back, raising their spirits. I wouldn’t hold that away from anyone.”

 

A good point. You’d buy it. Resuming your business, you reached back up to the door of your trunk and shut it hard. “Daemon hunters have strong spirits already,” you answered, “they’ll definitely be raising mine, too. After having been so drained for a while, I think this trip will put a little more life back into me, and I’d love to bring some of that energy back home to share.”

 

At last, Dad’s cheerleader attitude began to surface. “In that case, I think they picked the right person…. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

 

Had you not just pinched your finger on the suitcase handle, you would’ve crooked a smile. Your dad may still have been feeling uncertainty and fear, but you felt much more satisfied knowing that he hadn’t withdrawn his support. Besides: it was the most important thing to bring with you on this trip. Other than your laptop charger, of course.

 

“I swear…. Whoever gets you as his doctor will be the luckiest human being alive.”

 

~ooo~

 

There were four of you. Just as promised.

 

Two doctors. One physician assistant. One nurse.

 

At first, the interaction was very limited. All of you sat around quietly as your bags and supplies were loaded into the black van parked just outside the East doors of the med center. The staff each kept to themselves, scrolling through their phones, making last-minute phone calls, rustling through their bags and what-not. On the other hand, you were spending your time taking careful close looks around at the crew you’d be working with for the next few weeks.

 

The first one you took note of was the other doctor: a tall, slender young man, either in his late twenties or early thirties, standing over by the garbage can with his cell phone to his ear. Your attention was drawn to him when you overheard some of the conversation he was having over the phone. His demeanor was pretty hard to ignore—as of now, he sounded rather vexed, complaining about how the kids would get to school tomorrow since Aunt Linda couldn’t do it. Though you could barely hear the voice on the other line, there seemed to be no frustration in return. Nevertheless, the gentleman kept on getting worked up, running his fingers through the curls of his short brown hair, tapping his foot and pacing around. As you watched him, a small knot turned in your stomach. The last thing you wanted to do was meet someone while they were in a bad mood. Hopefully, this wasn’t how he was on a regular basis…

 

Beside the flustered physician, a girl with black hair and glasses sat quietly on a wooden bench. She seemed to pay no attention to the man, let alone be bothered by his rambling. From the way she gazed downward, her eyelids lowered like those of a forlorn child, you figured she was too deep in thought to notice anyways. You wouldn’t have guessed her to be one of the team members at first—she looked pretty young. Based on her appearance, you assumed her to be the nurse, if anyone, and probably not an experienced one at that. She might’ve even just graduated, for all you knew. Would she be okay for this sort of job? At least she was probably a nice girl. Shy, maybe… You’d be sure to talk to her during the trip.

 

The third stranger sat on another bench further away from the others. He was a middle-aged man, short and medium-built, sporting curly black hair thrown into a small, messy knot. Like the girl, he also ignored the other man and was keeping himself preoccupied. However, this man didn’t look like he was as shy as the girl. Come to think of it, his mannerisms certainly made him stand out from everyone else. His large, brown eyes stared intently at the pile of papers he held in front of his face with both hands. As he read, he tapped his foot rapidly, and he moved his head in twitchy motions, similar to how a jittery man would usually twitch. Occasionally, he would snatch a shortbread cookie out of the bag next to him and nibble on it, still reading his papers. Was he perhaps nervous right now? Or maybe he was a bit… quirky?

 

Your text tone went off.

 

You cut off your attention from the team members and looked down at your phone. The screen lit up with a text message. You looked closer at the name above. From Dad. You read the message beneath it in small black letters.

 

**_Call me when you get there. Be safe, k? If a daemon chases you, kick him in the nuts. Proud of you, kiddo._ **

 

You chuckled to yourself and smiled. Opening up your text screen, you started to type in your response:

 

**_K. I’ll bring you his nuts as a souvenir. Love you, Dad._ **

 

You finished and pressed the send button. Thirty seconds later, your text tone jingled again with a reply from Dad:

 

**_Love you too, sweetheart._ **

 

Still smiling to yourself, you turned off the screen, then slipped your phone back into your pocket.

 

You sat back and glanced up at the van as the engine started up. The gentleman loading the vehicle had finally placed the last bag in the back. He stood at the opening, his eyes scanning over the people sitting around. Likewise, you briefly scanned over the man’s attire. Other than the worn-out, dirty green tee fitting snug to his frame, he wasn’t dressed as ordinarily as the rest of you. His pants, boots, gloves and the various black straps over his torso gave off a bit of a combat vibe. Drawing your eye to his left forearm was a vivid, long scar stretching from wrist to elbow, looking much like an old wound from something sharp, most likely a blade. It was the scar that rang bells in your head: you had seen the very same ones on patients in your ER, typically those who suffered daemon attacks.

 

A daemon hunter.

 

You took a deep breath. None of you would be alone. Not just that, but _daemon hunters_ were going to be with you.

 

Thank the gods. At least someone was providing protection for you on this trip, since Lestallum wouldn’t give it to you. Dad would be relieved to know.

 

The man hopped down. He left both of the large doors open and walked around to the other side of the van. Though he disappeared out of your sight, you heard the faint words, “Think everyone’s here,” over the engine noise. Next, you saw the van just barely wiggle as the driver’s door opened and slammed on the other side.

 

The same gentleman walked out from behind the car. This time, another strode right behind him, walking straight into the dead-center of your sight. Naturally, of course, your eyes focused right upon him.

 

That sudden jolt of heat passing over you felt no different from running straight into a wall. Likewise, it sure as hell woke you up, too.

 

Whoah…

 

 _Whoah_ now…

 

Your eyes fluttered. Pursing your lips, you quickly looked down at your feet, then rubbed your nose. The strange jump in your heartbeat was a little bothersome; so was the lingering warmth. Was it because the evening coffee finally kicked in? No, wait, it was decaf. Hopefully, you weren’t starting to get sick… Maybe you were just getting angsty about the journey? Excited? Ugh… You just needed a bottle of water or something…

 

You looked back up, ready to ask if anyone had brought water. Instead, you kept quiet, distracted from your thirst. Something irked you to take a second glance. The hot jolt struck again, but you ignored it.

 

What started out as a second glance shortly became an attentive stare.

 

“Should we introduce ourselves, Gladio?”


End file.
